Ivory Keys
by A World of Pure Imagination
Summary: Alexandra lives her life at the piano bar, playing music on a cruise. She isolates herself from the world, escaping her past. After completing their American tour, One Direction decides to take a vacation. Zayn Malik tries to forget his painful breakup with Perrie Edwards, just to find another heartbreaker.


**Chapter 1: Alexandra**

Shouldering past the narrow doorway, I drag my suitcase into the cramped space. I heave it next to my twin bed, before letting my backpack drop with a thud onto my yellow duvet covers. Turning around, I flash a tired smile at Violet, who's already starting to unpack.

"What's your program?" Violet tugs out her raggedy old binder, and tosses to toward me. I leaf through the pages, wincing as I read the song titles. "They're making you sing ABBA? Ugh!"

Violet nods in agreement, then asks, "What's yours?" I unzip my grey backpack, pulling out my program. She flips through the sheets, and groans comically. "Piano Man again?" I nod, rolling my eyes.

"Worst song ever. _Sing us a song you're the piano man, sing us a song will you please…_ Seriously?" My voice takes on a chipmunk-like quality as I sing the lyrics. Violet giggles, and then stops, staring at her watch.

"Shit, we got to get ready; the passengers are going to arrive soon." Violet drops the program, unpacking as quickly as she can. Sighing, once, twice, I squat, unzipping my black suitcase and pulling out my clothes.

**Zayn:**

Meandering into the bar, Harry and I take a seat by the empty piano. I sip my Kamikaze, finally relaxing after the tour. I look around at the field of elderly people, nudging Harry.

"Where are all the chicks?"

"Probably at the club I saw. Let's finish our drink and go."

I nod, and reach toward my glass for another sip, when a girl, no, a woman walks through a small service door. Her hair is a smooth glossy black, pinned back in a loose bun, tendrils of loose hair framing her chocolate eyes and shy rosy smile. Her smooth mocha skin glows against her charcoal grey dress, slender neck framed by a halter neckline. Her waist seems so small, accentuated by a shirred waistline and a flowing skirt. My eyes traced down her delicately muscled calves, her feet wrapped in a pair of pale cobalt heels. Harry nudges me, and I unfreeze, taking a gulp of my drink.

"Sorry for the delay," she whispers. She hurries toward the piano, and sits, her fingers resting lightly on the keys. She laughs a little, then announces, "I'll play the crowd favorite first. How about Piano Man, by Billy Joel?" Her slender fingers position on the notes, and her rosy lips part as she starts playing. "It's nine o'clock on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffles in." Her voice quavers at the beginning, but then gets stronger. It's surprisingly low, and each word caresses my ears. I close my eyes, savoring her voice. Suddenly, Harry prods me in the side, and whispers, "You bloody like the girl, don't you? Over Perrie's breakup already?" I frown, and my mood sours.

"Let's stay here for another song, and then we'll go, alright?" Harry rolls his eyes, and I turn back to stare at her fluid form.

**Alexandra:**

Shitshitshit, I'm so late. Rushing down the service hallway, I swing my heels in one hand, clutching at my chiffon skirt with the other. I pause outside the entrance, slipping on my heels, and brushing the hair from my face. Deep breath in, then out, I remind myself. I step through the entrance, apologizing quickly and rushing past the bar to the piano.

Another deep breath in. My palms are sweating. Start with the basics. "I'll play the crowd favorite first. How about Piano Man, by Billy Joel?" I hear a dull roar in my ears, and I place my shaking hands on the keys. Breathe Alex, in, out. I position my fingers, and press down slowly. C'mon Alexandra, you've done this a million times. I can feel myself singing, and my fingers pressing down on notes, but I've disconnected. I go through the whole program, and feel the crowd slowly dispersing.

When I finally glance up at the clock, I read 1:00. "Okay, done," I whisper to myself, and slip from the bench. The bartender flashes me a thumbs-up and hands me a glass of water. I smile back at him gratefully, the water soothing my parched throat. "Thanks," I murmur gratefully, handing him the empty glass back.

"No problem. Thank you for attracting some patrons for me. You sing and play amazing! Oh, I'm Eric." He sticks out a hand, and I shake it, smiling.

"Alexandra, or Alex. I haven't seen you as part of this ship's crew before."

He shrugs. "Just joined. I haven't seen you before, or I would've remembered." His lips curl back into a flirty smile and he winks. I blush, heat flooding to my cheeks.

"Thanks, I guess. See you tomorrow." I wave bye, and decide to walk back through the passenger hallways. I wander through the hallways, turning down the stairs. I walk past the club entrance, the electro beat pulsing in my blood.

Abruptly, a man walks out of the entrance, his face turned toward the club, shouting, "See you later lads." Lads? Who says lads? I try to dodge out of his way, but his shoulder clips mine, and I wobble precipitously on my heels. He turns around, just in time to see me fall ungracefully onto my butt. Wincing, I clamber up, tottering slightly on my heels before righting myself. "Bloody hell, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, I didn't fall too hard." I wince unconsciously as I try to slouch.

"Bollocks. I can see you wincing. I'm so sorry. I'll walk you to your room."

"It's fine, I can get there myself." Crewmembers aren't allowed to socialize with passengers, I remind myself. "Who are you?"

He does an unconscious spit take, and chokes out, "Zayn Malik." We shake hands, and he flashes me a wide grin.

"Alex. Should I know who you are?"

He pauses, then stumbles out, "Uh, no, not really." His hazel eyes flash uncertainly, and I take in his British accent, letterman jacket, and low-slung jeans. I glance at his choppy black hair, and piece together the puzzle.

"Wait, you're that singer in.. One Direction? Aren't you engaged to Perrie Edmonds?"

"Edwards, Perrie Edwards. And no, we broke it up." His face crumples slightly, and he grimaces.

"Oh, sorry. I should better get going now. Bye." I turn around, and run from the scene as fast as I can.


End file.
